by Jones, Ayla
RIP, bitch.
Camryn told me I looked like shit this morning, and then I spent hours of my life fretting over how today would play out between Charlie and me. My money was on spectacle. My heart was already slapping my ribcage. More than one whole month had gone by. A whole entire month without the person I’d spent every day with. None of this right now felt real.
Samira gave me a quick tour of her “suburban hell” as she called it. But it was hardly that. This was the home of two people rebelling against the white picket fence: clashing patterns, vintage furniture, and black and white movie posters framed on the walls. All safely tucked behind baby gates. We passed Patrick in the family room on our way to the kitchen. He was making bouquets of helium-filled balloons and watching something exciting on TV. He yelled every once in a while. Then Lux yelled, too, mimicking him and laughing. Between the toddlers and Charlie, today would be extremely hard on my lady parts.
I was late getting here, after promising Samira I’d be early (look, you try finding the perfect outfit in just a few hours when you were going to see the ex-boyfriend you were still in love with), so we didn’t have much time to deal with what was left to do before the guests arrived. Samira set me up to make different types of tea sandwiches, as she concocted a fruity punch that was disproportionately made of alcohol.
“So, did Charlie tell you that Hillington really liked Once Upon a Time in Havana?” Samira asked as we worked. The knife I was holding slammed into the cutting board, missing the cucumber I was slicing, completely. I almost severed my fingers. Like, all of them. She still didn’t know we were broken up? Was Charlie not talking to our friends about us? Was he talking to anybody?
Was he okay?
“No. We broke up, Samira…” What do you know? I studied her, but she looked genuinely surprised.
“Well, I figured something was up with you two when he moved to his parents’ place. I thought maybe the apartment reminded him of you or something. And then he and Ghost were acting really weird when we were at Julian’s, trying to talk about you in secret, like I’m not nosy. But I figured it was a short-term thing. A couple’s first major fight,” she said as I trailed her to the backyard carrying the tray of sandwiches. She had the punch dispenser. “But it’s, like, we-can-see-other-people-again broken up?”
After we arranged everything on the serving tables, she took a moment to admire her decorating skills. Lux was apparently “over pink,” so deep violet streamers and lilac paper tablecloths flapped in the light breeze. There was an area for face painting, a bounce castle, and a photo booth. She’d set up a candy bar for the adults: jars brimming with color-separated jelly beans, Skittles, M&Ms, and lollipops. There was so much candy my teeth were tingling.
“Yes. I think so. We’re done,” I said. I ignored how speaking it felt like choking. I wanted to say more, tell her that Charlie wasn’t being the best to himself right now. And he was overwhelmed and keeping so much of it inside that he’d become a drug addict. But I didn’t. And it was so wrong to protect him. So wrong. I knew better but…
I shook my thoughts away.
Her brow furrowed as she tore open a bag of ice and dumped a mountain of it into a large plastic barrel marked ADULTS ONLY. “So, this is the first time you guys are seeing each other…since he texted me to say he was at Vikram and Ella’s?”
“Wait. Why is he not at the apartment?”
“He punched Deacon.”
“Why?”
“Oh, you know Deacon…his penchant for, well, Deaconing finally caught up to him. He said something stupid about you, apparently. Charlie lost his shit.” Samira drank a full cup of her punch without pause. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“We’re adults,” I stressed, even though I agreed. “We can handle being here together. Deacon and Charlie will be here at the same time, right?”
“No, I told Deacon he couldn’t come. Charlie is Lux’s godfather, so he has to be here.” After a beat of silence, she downed another cup. Her pupils pulsed. “This is going to be a gigantic fucking disaster.” Her phone buzzed. “It’s my brother. He’s supposed to pick up Lux’s cake. Knowing him, he’s at the wrong bakery. Oh God. I was kind of sad that Lux isn’t even going to remember this party, but I’m okay with it now. I’ll remember it, though.”
“We won’t embarrass you, Mira.”
“I wouldn’t put any money behind that…” She answered her brother’s call and walked back into the house. Then the doorbell started ringing and never stopped. The place filled up quickly with adults and kids. Music and laughter. Sunshine and familiar faces. I spent most of my time pacing near the serving table for the older kids, passing out sandwiches to sticky hands. And looking toward the house every time I heard the low rumble of a male voice. They were all his for a moment. Then definitely not his. My palms were clammy. I was so antsy, too full of everything humans feel, all at once. I padded back into the house.
“Everything already feels like it’s snotty and sneezed on,” Denise whispered to me when I spotted her investigating the appetizers. “I don’t know how people do this. Thank God for Depo shots.” All her words were muffled behind her hand. She was using it as a facemask. “And a half-birthday sounds like a way for parents to force you to pay more attention to their kid.”
“Quit…and Samira promised the adults were going to have just as much fun as the kids. Have a heart, bitch.”
“Nope.” Denise shrugged. “Gonna have a drink instead.”
“I can’t take you anywhere,” I called after her as she walked toward the kitchen. Before she could get too far, I grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “Do I look okay? Should I have worn this?” I pointed to my strapless floral print dress and regretted starting this conversation right in the instant. Since when was I insecure about how my clothes looked on me? This breakup was doing a number on me.
So much masturbation. Not enough rationality.
“Are you serious?” Denise whispered in irritation. “Is this about Charlie? He used to put his penis inside you, you know…regularly…like a few weeks ago. In fact, he agreed to not put it in anyone else while he was doing that.” I snorted and laughed. “So…pretty sure he liked what he saw then. He’s going to like what he sees when he gets here. He’s still going to want to put his penis in you.” She squeezed my hand and shook her head, but her look was tender and understanding. “You are being crazy. Stop it, crazy.”
“Okay.”
“And I thought you were mad at him.”
“I am. It’s complicated.” She shook her head again and left me standing there. The breeze from her walking by had barely blown before Samira approached me with a guy who looked strikingly like her husband on her arm.
“This is my brother-in-law…Michael. Mike. He’s Patrick’s older brother. And this is my friend, Nikki.” Behind him, she mouthed, Wanted to meet you. He’s great, really, but no. No. I grinned. We shook hands as she went to greet more guests.
He was attractive, like one of those guys who were always standing in a sailboat with wind-tousled hair in Ralph Lauren print ads. But he wasn’t my baby. My love. My Charlie. I looked toward the front door quickly when the bell rang, and more unfamiliar people poured in. “So, you’re Patrick’s brother?” I asked.
He laughed. Probably because Samira had literally just told me he was Patrick’s brother. “And you’re a ballet dancer?”
“Yeah.” I curled my toes when Samira shrilled at the arrival of more people. I looked toward the footsteps behind me again.
Michael tapped my hand because I had turned to face the door completely. “You okay?”
“Yeah...is this house hot to you?” I swallowed and fanned my face. My nerves were like jumping beans. I was ready for Charlie to get here. God, I was going to be a sweaty mess by the time—
“Happy half-birthday, Booger!” My knees went weak. Charlie burst in without knocking, hardly able to walk with the large Toys ‘R Us and Target bags swinging around his feet. Frisson sliced
straight through me. I could’ve burst. Damn, my ex was sexy. He was clean-shaven and wearing a black Polo and blue jeans.
Samira hugged him and took the gifts. “Charlie! My God! This is too much! You do realize she’s probably going to play with the boxes more than the actual toys, right?”
Lux ran straight for his legs, screaming with glee the entire way. I had on my favorite Fuck You! outfit; my heart should’ve been a freezer. But I was awwing under my breath as Charlie picked her up and smashed kisses on her little cheeks. “I know…but look at her,” he said. “Hi, Booger.” She held onto his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Why did she have to like him so much? What chance did I stand against a guy who adored a baby who was equally crazy about him?
Ahsha and Priyanka walked in next, and smiled and waved as soon as they saw me. My return wave was weak because I was so focused on him. Look at me. My heart swelled and I held onto the counter, waiting. Because no matter what, I still wanted him to want me. Look at me look at me look at me look at me. Just as he set Lux on the floor, a woman shut the door behind her and took his arm.
My heart crashed into my quivering stomach.
I looked over at Samira with a questioning stare. Oh no. Oh hell no. My current panic and sleeplessness from the prior weeks boiled into fury. They were barely past the foyer when I ambushed. “Really?” I said. “Really? You brought another woman to our friends’ house?”
She was pretty. I’d give him that. It was a valiant attempt at an upgrade. If you were into leggy, nice boobs, smooth skin and…still fucking touching my goddamn ex. “Who’s this?” she asked.
“First…don’t talk.” I shook my finger in her face. Even while knowing it was irrational to be angry with her, especially when she was all deer-in-the-headlights in the eyes. “Don’t talk at all. Not a goddamn word. Don’t even—”
“Um, Nik…we should walk away now…” Denise’s voice hit my ear and my tunnel vision cleared. The faces around me came into view. It was only a few faces but, oh, wow. This was a scene. And I was causing it, offering up ringside seats to our mess.
Charlie’s gaze rolled over me from toes to head. My insides burned. “Samira is my friend…and Patrick, too, by association. And by the way, the original owner of said friends gets to control what kind of friendship the ex has with them. Cosmo didn’t clear that up for you?”
“Oh, fu—”
“Why don’t I ever get to have nice things?” Samira said to no one.
“I don’t think I like it when Mom and Dad fight,” I heard Denise say as Samira yanked both Charlie and me into the kitchen. The two of us just stared at each other. I managed to keep standing even though the sweep of memories threatened to throw me to the floor. Yes, I’d had a life before Charlie. But when I measured it against the after—after this man loved me and made love to me—I didn’t remember much of it anymore. I only knew those hands and that kindness and those eyes and those arms and those lips…and that heart now. “Guys, you cannot have your Bravo reality show shit play out here. My in-laws are coming. They like me. You”—Samira pointed at Charlie—“sangria duty. And you…back to sandwiches.” She pushed a tray of them into my hands. Those stations were on opposite ends of the backyard.
I let Charlie go out first. The space between us got busy fast as the house bled party guests. Samira had to be directing them to the yard. I had a suspicion she wanted Charlie and I as distracted as possible. It didn’t stop him from watching me, though. Every time I looked up he was focused on mixing sangria. And putting way too much fruit in it. Because he was watching me, like I was watching him.
His shirt seemed big on him. Had he lost weight? Was he eating? After walking into the kitchen, I took my time and made him his own sandwich. It was bitter and angry sandwich making, though; I was no pushover.
Okay, so I made it with everything he liked. So what? Yeah, yeah…I loved him.
I loved him so much.
I loved him so, so much.
I was a goddamn sucker.
He was laughing with the person he was pouring a drink for when I approached, but he didn’t look genuinely amused at all. He looked tense and miserable. I wanted to hug him so badly, and the urge was like suffocation. I miss you. You miss me. And it’s killing us both. But I balled my fist at my side and held my resolve. I had spent too much time ignoring and averting my eyes.
His face lit up. Because of me. The girl who wouldn’t just let him deal with his shit as destructively as he wanted. “Thank you,” he said when I set the sandwich down. Charlie grabbed my wrist as I started to walk away, exactly like I was wishing he would. His knuckles were still showing signs of injury. “This isn’t what you were serving. You made this for me?”
“It doesn’t mean I’m…it doesn’t mean I’m okay with what you’re doing. Your mom told me about Oliver. And his heart. He died.” My voice broke.
“I’m fine.”
“At some point you won’t be fine, Charlie.” And how can you be fine? How can that be a word you use to describe yourself? How can you be fine without me? I don’t even know what fine is. Fine is not fucking near where I am. I wanted to add all of this, but it would’ve been so unfair to Samira for us to have another public argument.
“Don’t make it seem like I’m some fucking strung-out addict, Nik. And can you stop calling Fallon?”
“Fuck Fallon.” I’d raised my voice and now people were staring at us. Neither of us spoke for a few seconds. I realized he was holding my hand. I wanted to pull away. I didn’t. The silence became a scream in my veins. My beautiful, sweet Charlie. I ran my thumb over his knuckles, over the cuts, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “What did Deacon say?”
Charlie glowered. “Shit I didn’t like…”
“About me.”
“Like I said, shit I didn’t like.”
“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to hurt me? And you can punch Deacon but I can’t harass Fallon?” I thought our last fight had drained me, but the current tension between us was fueling all my hurt and anger again.
“All right, all right…” He ran his hand up my forearm. “The conversation at your place…it shouldn’t have gone down like that…” Charlie and I had never really bickered or argued, and for that to have been our first real big blowup made me feel ill. “So…everything’s completely back to normal at SoBe?” he asked. When I nodded he added, “Ghost said the show has gotten even better. New songs and choreography.”
“Yeah…I have a permanent solo now. All my own choreo. We’ve been doing a special preview, but it debuts officially in a week,” I explained.
“Is it okay if I check it out sometime?”
“Yeah, of course,” I said with emphasis, “I wouldn’t stop you, Charlie.”
“Nikki! We’re gonna eat! Hurry before the line gets too long!” Denise yelled out to me. She was standing with Mike and Ghost.
“God, I’m starving…” I’d barely had an appetite today because of this reunion. Now the hunger was hitting me all at once.
“This is different than before…” Charlie mumbled.
“What is?”
“Seeing other guys stare at you. It’s much fucking harder, but you look beautiful today. Mike clearly wants you to go home with him. I don’t know if I can handle seeing that.” Desperation had edged into his voice.
I smirked. “Did I go home with you?” Not that for a few seconds I hadn’t thought about one-night-standing Mike. To fight the loneliness. A heart could live in a body and be miles away from it at the same time. But I wanted to fuck someone who wouldn’t ask to call me afterward.
Charlie leaned over the bar. His hand cupped the back of my neck. “What if I kissed you right now?” His breath brushed my lips. Do it. Kiss me. Every inch of skin on me tightened. Kiss me.
“Peeing on your tree?”
He smiled. “I’m gonna kiss my girl when I want to kiss my girl.”
“I don’t belong to you.”
He shrugged. “I’m still yours, though.
”
My composure held but a shiver shook my chest. “People who belong to each other don’t shut each other out. They don’t walk out like you did. They don’t just fucking say okay. They don’t fucking say okay.” I hated how petulant I sounded but... “And you’re being extremely rude to your date.”
“No, you were rude to my date.”
“So she’s your date?”
“Have you seen me talk to her at all since we got here? We walked in together because I know her, but I didn’t come here with her.” Charlie leaned more. He was so close he could probably see the shimmery flecks in my lip-gloss. “What the fuck? He’s still looking at you. I’d really prefer not to punch the shit out of Mike today…”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning…I don’t want a reason to. Because Samira and Patrick would probably never talk to me again.”
I laughed. “Deacon let you get one good hit in and now you think you’re Muhammad Ali.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe a little. It was, like, two hits, by the way.” He shrugged. “Plus, I just got to hear you laugh, even though you’re mocking my fighting skills.”
It was so easy with us but I had to be strong. “I should go eat, and you eat the sandwich, Charlie. It doesn’t change anything.”
“You still made me a sandwich, though. You love me.”
“Just eat the goddamn sandwich.” I exhaled like I hadn’t breathed in years and walked away. I miss you. I thought it, but I swore I heard him say it, too.
Patrick and Samira had reason to be proud of their party. Other than my outburst, Lux’s party was perfect. Drunken parents were staggering as much as their face-painted toddlers. Denise and I ate behind the bounce castle with Mike and some of his cousins. I stared at Charlie as he joked around with Ghost, Patrick, Brody, Shaw, and a few other guys I didn’t know. I gazed at his mouth when he laughed. Watched his body stretch when he locked his fingers behind his head and rocked back on his heels. Took him in like I had that day at the police station: so sexy—